LOST! (And not the fun version involving Smoke Monsters)

For those of you who haven't already heard, Les and I bought those sexy little road bikes. Actually they're not little, they're Giants and they were worth every penny.


We took them out for a short test ride the other weekend, but their first *real* ride was this Saturday. Since we don't have fancy GPS systems, and there are only so many directions we can keep in our heads or scribble on our arms, we decided to join a Quad Cycles Bike Shop ride, which is "a rolling loop through Arlington, Lexington, Bedford, Concord, Carlisle, Chelmsford and Billerica" - basically, a nice little tour of the beautiful Third Middlesex District.


The nicest part of these rides is that while everyone starts off together at the shop in Alrington, you break off into personalized groups based on what kind of pace you want to maintain and how far you ultimately want to ride - anywhere between 1 and 60 miles.

Unfortunately, when we got to the shop, Les ran into some technical difficulties trying to get her pedals switched out, so I ended up leaving with the first wave of riders and Les caught up to the group a little later. I hadn't been planning on biking without a riding buddy, but I wasn't too worried- there were about 40 other bikers there who stayed in a pretty cohesive caravan, and the Quad Cycle employees kept looping around to check on stragglers.

The first 30 miles of the ride leading to the lunch spot - Fern's in Carlisle - were great. We biked through some beautiful portions of the Minuetman Trail, and I started to learn some of the vernacular and hand signals that are second nature to seasoned riders. There's this one move that I've labeled "The Monkey," which looks like you're tossing a ball behind your back (Try it. Congratulations - you just looked like a monkey). This motion warns riders that there's some obstacle to the side that's causing the group to veer into the center of the road. When someone in front of you does a certain hand motion, you mirror it, and the message gets sent down the line - like a big game of sign language telephone. That way you're adjusting your ride for obstacles you haven't even seen yet. It's very cool.

Anyway, we hit the lunch spot and everyone refuled with cold water and power bars. Then it was decision time. Some of the riders were heading back, but another group - most of whom had been in a pack with me during the first half of the ride - wanted to continue on another 5 miles to Hanscom Airforce Base. That way they could cover about 50 miles by the time they returned to the shop. I decided to go with that group, but after about 2 miles it became clear that these cyclers had done CRACK during our lunch break. I mean here we are 35 miles in, on the hilliest part of the ride, and they were maintaining a consistent 19mph speed. Un-freaking-real. I was giving it my all but the gap between myself and the group just kept getting wider and wider. It got to the point where the others were just specks in the distance and I was barely able to keep track of the turns they were making.

Then I rounded one final corner and collided with a Route 2A junction- a wideopen highway intersection and there wasn't a single rider in sight. I was officially left behind and lost in what I believed was Bedford. Now sure, it's not exactly the same as getting separated in Dorchester or Brighton, but still! It felt like anything could happen. I was imagining having to pull over and call Senator Fargo for help. I invisioned search parties and missing girl posters.


But then I channeled Mike, and I knew his advice would be what it always is: "Just keep pedaling." If I absolutely had to pull over and check my iphone GPS, I could, but if I kept going, I still had a chance to catch up (especially since I didn't believe those crack cyclers could maintain that pace much longer). I couldn't afford to lose any time. I had to just keep pedaling.

After about 15 minutes of riding down 2A without seeing a single cycler, the rest of the group literally ran into me as they pealed out of a side road. It was pure luck, but I'll take it.

Needless to say, for those final 5 miles - I made damn sure not to lose them again.

Door to door we rode 60 miles. Not a bad start at all. And hopefully after a few more of these rides, I won't have to worry about getting lost again- not only cause I'll know the routes, but because people will be fighting to keep up with me. Just you wait.